The Compatibility of Weird
by ambiguouslyme
Summary: Harry Potter has always been a survivor. He knows this, and for so long, has accepted it. His life has been one disaster after another, and he's been trapped in an endless struggle between powers he's never known. This year, however, Harry is determined to change his fate. This year, he will do more than survive. This year, Harry Potter is going to live.


**Title:** The Compatibility of Weird

**Author: **bats-in-boots

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: **Possible slash, though I have yet to decide if I want it or not. If I decide not to include it then I probably won't have Harry paired with anyone. I'm also messing with cannon a lot, so I suppose it could be considered somewhat AU. Also, because of the AU factor, Harry is pretty OOC. If that bothers you, feel free to stop reading now. I know that a lot of this may come off as rather cliché, but I'm finding it hard to care.

Chapter One

Harry watched the new defense teacher with a steady glare. He may not appreciate the Headmaster's current refusal to speak to him, but that doesn't mean that he should be interrupted by this creature who claims to be a woman. Well, the thing at the podium had never actually claimed to be a woman, Harry reminded himself, he was only assuming.

"Hey Ron," he said, ignoring Hermione's disapproving frown at his interruption of the speech, "do you think that professor Umbridge is a woman?" His friend looked at him as if he was an idiot, which was rather strange coming from him, Harry had to admit.

"Yes," Ron answered, obviously questioning his sanity. "I think she is."

"Oh," Harry said as he returned his unblinking gaze to the new teacher, "how strange."

He remained silent for the rest of the speech.

~oOoOo~

Once Professor McGonagall left and the first years were introduced, a hush fell over the room. Harry leaned back against the wall and watched the first years fidget, wondering if he had looked this nervous during his first meeting. He looked up to see most of the sixth and seventh year students watching him along with the rest of the fifth years and some younger students. He knew what they wanted, and with a sigh, he pushed off the wall to stand in front of his fellow Gryffindors.

He waited until he had their attention, and the silence was almost louder than the murmured conversations from before. He relaxed as a hand settled on his shoulder. His friends believed him, he told himself, and that's all that mattered. With another sigh, Harry steeled his nerves and began to speak.

"I don't know what you're read or heard over the summer," he said, "but Voldemort is back." He ignored the shudder that passed through the crowd at the name, though he was pleased to see that most of the older students hadn't reacted. It had taken him months to get them to stop flinching every time he said it. Looking back, his methods had been rather questionable, but he figured that if he was going to try and cure them of their flinching problem, he might as well go all out. He'd had a lot of fun helping them. The hand on his shoulder tightened, and Harry realized that he should probably start talking again. "I know that most of you find this hard to believe, due to the Prophet's campaign against the Headmaster and myself. But I am not lying to you when I say that he has returned.

"Last year, during the fourth task, the cup was tampered with. It brought us to a graveyard. Cedric was hit with the killing curse, and Voldemort returned. Minister Fudge doesn't agree. Neither do most of your families." Many of the Gryffindors looked ashamed at this, as if embarrassed that he knew what was being said about him. Harry couldn't keep the dark laugh from slipping out as he remembered some of the nastier comments. "Oh yes," he said, "I have read the Prophet, and I can assure you that it is full of lies. Now, I do not want to insult you or your families, so I will refrain from commenting on some of the rumors. However, I want you to know that while Voldemort has not yet shown himself, he is out there."

His gaze was sharp and seemed to pierce the heart of each of his fellow students that it touched. All they could do was stare in silence, and just as Harry began to feel awkward in the quiet that settled around the room, the spell was broken by a loud clap.

"Well," George stood and moved to fling an arm around Harry's shoulder, shoving Ron aside, "that was a wonderful speech, mate!" Harry rolled his eyes as Fred cleared his throat dramatically, and allowed George to pull him over to the armchair closest to the fire.

"All in favor of the theory that Voldemort has returned, raise your hand!" Fred called, grinning as he raised his hand above his head. George did the same, along with Ron and Hermione. The Quidditch team was next, with the rest of his year following their lead, and soon every student had a hand in the air.

"Brilliant," George grinned from where he had Harry pinned to his side. "Now we can get to the important stuff!" One of the sixth year girls scoffed and threw a pillow at his head. Harry sighed and grabbed it out of the air, daring George with his eyes to throw one back. He did not want a repeat of last year's pillow fight. He didn't want to deal with the mess it would cause, for Hermione would no doubt rope him into joining the prefects in cleaning the common room _again_.

"Right, because that wasn't important at all," said one of the seventh year students, a blonde boy named Timothy. George rolled his eyes in response.

"He's not wrong, though," said Harry, drawing all eyes to him again, "we need to figure out what to do about points this year." Everyone but the first years nodded. It was a tradition started years ago, though nobody knew how long it had actually been going on. Every year they would all gather on the first night and decide what they wanted to do about the house cup.

Last year they hadn't really cared, as the tournament was deemed more important, but the year before that they had been determined to win. This year, however…

"I say we forget about the cup," said a small, beady eyed third year. "I've heard stories about Umbridge, and I don't think I'll be able to keep from losing points with her around."

"Not to say I disagree with you," Colin said with a grin, "but what does Umbridge have to do with losing points?"

"You mean you haven't heard?" Lavender gasped, looking delighted at the chance to share her gossip with the entire house. "Umbridge is terrible. She's one of the leading prosecutors of werewolves, along with the other beings."

"She's very loyal to Fudge," Parvati added, "and that shade of pink looks horrid with her skin tone." Harry wasn't sure if that had anything to do with why she would be a horrible teacher, but they'd long since learned to ignore her when Parvati started complaining about fashion.

"Okay," Hermione said as she handed a quill to one of the seventh years, "we're ignoring the house cup this year. Any objections?" Nobody spoke up, and they were about to move on to their next topic, setting up the monthly meetings for the rest of the year, when a sixth year stood up.

"I have an idea," he said with a wicked smile on his face. "Let's do more than not care." Fred narrowed his eyes at the boy before turning to grin at George.

"I agree," he said, already having an idea of what the boy had been about to say. Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against George, whatever this idea was, he had a terrible feeling that it would be possibly life threatening.

"Ummm, great," the boy said, clearly annoyed at Fred for interrupting. "Would you like to explain, or should I go on?" Fred just held his hands up in surrender before moving to sit next to George. "Well, as I was saying, I think we should take this even further. Every year we've either decided to ignore the cup, or win it. I propose that this year," he paused to grin with a mischievous light in his eyes, "we actively try to lose it." There was silence for a moment, as the Gryffindors thought about the suggestion. Then, multiple conversations broke out at once.

~oOoOo~

Harry snickered as Hermione stared in disgust at the mess that was currently blocking the hallway. They had been heading towards the library; Ron was back in the Common Room playing chess with Neville, when their journey had been interrupted by a loud crash. Hermione had been prepared to ignore it, but Harry had grabbed her hand before she even got the chance to glare at him.

Bright pink goo was hanging from the ceiling, and something that looked like neon paint was splattered across the walls. It was quite a change from the usual stone, and Harry wholeheartedly approved of the new look.

He looked away from the mess to see Fred and George peering from around a corner and flashed them a thumbs up, grinning all the while. The fun was interrupted, however, when a dark figure commonly known as Professor Snape swooped into the hall. Harry wanted to stay and watch, but he had been pulled away by an irritated Hermione. He could still hear Snape yelling when they reached the stairs and sighed when he heard how many points were taken. The twins already had a head start with losing points. It just wasn't fair.

~oOoOo~

"It doesn't seem right," Hermione said as she poured a glass of Pumpkin Juice, "what if someone gets hurt because of this?"

"Relax, Hermione," Ron said through a mouthful of food, "Fred and George know what they're doing." Harry grinned at her exasperated glare and intervened before she said something she might regret later.

"I don't think she was talking about your brothers, Ron," he laughed. "She's worried about what the others might do to lose the more points than them." Ron paused in his chewing to nod thoughtfully before swallowing.

"Speaking of losing points," he said with a conspiratorial grin, "how are we going to win this thing?" Harry had been wondering the same thing, but to be honest, he was sure that they wouldn't have to do anything. If their previous years were anything to go by, they'd lose enough without coming up with some scheme.

He said this, prompting Ron to snort into his potatoes. Then, when he saw that Hermione was still worried, Harry leaned his head against her shoulder. "We can bring it up at the next meeting, okay?" Hermione grinned in reply and rested her head against his.

They spent the rest of the meal watching Ron eat with expressions ranging from amusement to disgust.

~oOoOo~

Harry leaned his head against the windowpane with a sad smile.

The sun was just beginning to rise, and as rays of light cut across the sky, Harry allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts. He still had hours before the second student would wake, a Hufflepuff first year who still hadn't gotten used to being away from home. He wondered what it would be like to feel homesick, but as he'd never really had a home before Hogwarts he was pretty sure he'd never truly experience it. The thought was almost sad, Harry thought as his grin faded, but he'd long gotten used to the idea. Ten years of being locked in a cupboard could do that to you.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at the dark turn his thoughts had taken. He had been doing that a lot lately, and it was getting harder to smile every day. He glared out the window with a determined frown. He would not let this control him.

Nightmares and visions, no matter how terribly realistic they felt, were no excuse for this lack of control. He couldn't allow himself to wallow in this sadness and anger. It wasn't healthy.

He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, relaxing his mind and allowing the emotional turmoil to calm. He was sick and tired of these scattered breakdowns. They were rare, of course, and he managed to keep them contained when around anyone, but they were still unforgivable.

He stood from his perch and exited the dorm, making sure to keep from falling as he slid down the banister. Once he reached the end, he pushed off the wall and flew through the air, his flight prolonged by a brush of magic. He didn't even try to contain the laugh that bubbled to the surface as he rolled to a stop in front of the couch. He hadn't indulged himself in so long, and it felt good to laugh freely.

As he stretched languidly across the carpet, a content hum escaping his throat, he promised himself he'd laugh more often this year.

**A/N: **If you have any thoughts on the pairing, feel free to share.

Thanks for reading :)

~Rae


End file.
